Presbyterian Church (USA)

Advent 2009

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

The dawn from on high will break upon us … to guide us in the way of peace (Luke 1:78-79).

Earlier this fall, I traveled to the Middle East. The trip included a stop in Bethlehem, where I had the opportunity to visit an ancient cave that is similar to what a cave stable might have looked like when Joseph and Mary arrived over 2000 years ago.

The cave stable was small, cool, very quiet, and peaceful. It was not hard to imagine the space being used as a birthing place for a child.

While there, I thought about how that quiet, peaceful spot is located in a wider region that is marked with ongoing violence and tension. I thought about other areas in the world where people’s lives are uprooted by such things as famine and warfare, and I wondered about the quiet places one might find there.

I reflected on how, closer to home, we have seen our own level of tension heightened this year because of an economic crisis, rising unemployment, mass shootings, a flu epidemic, ongoing deployment of troops, and so much more. I have heard about and seen firsthand how difficult these stressors have been on our congregations across the denomination. Mission giving, programs, building plans, and staff have been reduced in an effort to make ends meet.

It has been a difficult year. Yet, a quiet, confident strength has been present across the church from which amazing things have happened.

I have heard stories of compassion, generosity, and hope during these tough times. Food pantries, shelters, health clinics, employment training, and countless other creative approaches have been taken to help meet the needs of neighbors and strangers alike.

During the Advent and Christmas seasons, I am reminded anew of the importance of the peaceful birth of Jesus in that quiet cave stable in Bethlehem so long ago. The circumstances surrounding his birth didn’t stay peaceful for long, but the very presence of the Christ child was anchored completely in God’s redeeming love and hope for the entire world.

From that quiet beginning came the Word-made-flesh, breaking upon us to guide us in the way of peace. May it be so again this year – for each of you, for the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), for the church worldwide, and for this very world itself.

The peace of the Christ child be with you.

Gradye Parsons
Stated Clerk of the General Assembly

A monthly column for the church-at-large by the Reverend Bruce Reyes-Chow, Moderator of the 218th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

A life the church is compelled to live

April 2009

As I write this, we are in the midst of Holy Week and the walk toward the cross.

Every year as we enter this time, the church is pushed again to think about the realities and expressions of our beliefs in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The covenant made at the last supper, his death on the cross, and his resurrection into new life compel us to live in the world in a way that is worthy of the forgiveness given by God.

Not an easy task, for sure. Our transformation in Christ and its compelling nature is such a complex event in our lives, but yet so simple. The graciousness of our God and God’s love simply permeate our souls so that joy and hope can be our only response. Yet, at the same time, we live in God’s created world filled with a wondrous and often frustrating complexity, which sometimes makes it seem easier to give into the chaos around us.

Now, one could argue that the world is always in some kind of turmoil. But it seems that in today’s climate of economic turmoil, violence, war, and anxiety, being able to live this walk from promise to despair to hope is a life the church is compelled to live.

As the world faces death and despair in both body and spirit, will we be the hands and hearts of Christ to live, breathe, and share the hope that Christ brings? I have no doubt we will, for if we take seriously the gracious nature of God, we have no other choice but to live that new life for the world, as Christ has been the new life for each of us.

A monthly column for the church-at-large by the Reverend Gradye Parsons, Stated Clerk of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).

A place where peace truly abides

March 2009

I traveled recently to Israel/Palestine/Jerusalem on your behalf. Victor Makari (coordinator for Middle East, Asia Minor, and Jinishian Memorial Program), Randy Ackley (coordinator, Presbyterian Disaster Assistance) and I were there to show our pastoral support for the Palestinian and Jewish people who had been impacted by the Gaza violence.

This was my first trip to the Middle East, and it left me with many impressions. For example, seeing the actual geography of places like Bethany, the Mount of Olives, and the road on which Jesus rode a donkey on Palm Sunday had me wondering at a new level what it was like to be in Jerusalem in those early days.

Perhaps the greatest impression is that the struggle of those in that region reminds me so much of our struggle to live together in this country. We are still learning that people have basic common needs, regardless of race or creed.

People need a secure home – one in which you can put your child to bed at night without fear of some violence from the sky. They need the ability to earn a living – not very possible if you cannot get to work safely. And people need a sense of future for their family, which is left in question when your children leave your country to find a better life.

The season of Lent provides us with a time of prayer and introspection as we prepare ourselves for Easter morning. This year, I want to invite you to add a regiment of daily prayer for the people of Jerusalem, Israel, and Palestine. They are all people who are trying to live their daily lives in the midst of a huge relational struggle. It is a struggle that inflicts a thousand little hurts into hearts and minds on an all-too-regular basis.

Perhaps first, though, we need to pray that we will continue to learn our own lessons about living together in a common land. Then, let us pray that we will find a way to share what we have learned, so that the geography of the Holy Land will be a place where the peace that passes all understanding truly abides.

A monthly column for the church-at-large by The Reverend Bruce Reyes-Chow, Moderator of the 218th General Assembly (2008) of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) This month, the column is written by the Reverend Dr. Byron A. Wade, Vice-Moderator of the 218th General Assembly.

What happens when the bush stops burning?

March 2009

I remember very well the day of commencement from Johnson C. Smith Theological Seminary. I was graduating with honors. I had a master’s degree from Union Theological Seminary-Presbyterian School of Christian Education. I was definitely ready to serve a congregation and was energized to do ministry.

The commencement speaker that day was the Reverend Dr. Renita Weems, former professor of Old Testament at Vanderbilt Divinity School. Her message was entitled, “What Happens When the Bush Stops Burning?” from the call of Moses in Exodus 3. She asked us, “What will you do in-between the first time you heard from God and the next time you do?”

In her message, I was reminded of the “burning bush” moments when God is present in our lives – ordination and installation of pastors, marriages, births of children, formation of friendships or relationships, and so forth. Those are the times when God’s presence burns brightly in our lives.

But as life goes along, things happen – church conflicts, broken relationships, loss of loved ones, periods of economic recession, loss of employment, and more. In those times, we cannot feel the presence of God, and we don’t know when we will hear next from God.

Rev. Weems ended her message that day by telling the story of a time when she was invited to be a guest preacher. She recalled that she was going through some difficulties in her personal life that particular Sunday. As the choir sang, she heard the most beautiful voice. She wanted to see who was singing, so she turned around to look at the choir. The voice was coming from a man whose face was totally disfigured. She knew then that God used that man to speak a word of comfort to her in a time of need.

What happens to you when the bush stops burning? What do you do in-between the last time you heard from God and the next time?

For me, it is helpful to remember Rev. Weems’ message, especially during this Lenten season. God speaks to us in unexpected ways to let us know the “bush is still burning.”

February 18, 2009
What have we got to lose?
A monthly column for the church by the General Assembly moderator
by the Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow
Moderator of the 218th General Assembly (2008) of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

SAN FRANCISCO ― I was privileged last month to participate in the Congressional Black Caucus inaugural interfaith prayer service as a representative of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).

And while the historic nature of the presidential inauguration was certainly important, I was most struck by the constant remembrance of the Rev. Martin Luther King’s commitment to non-violence in response to the shackles of oppression.

As I sat there, I could not help but wonder what it is that shackles us today. Where are our acts of civil disobedience called for in the world, our communities, and the church? Yes, things have changed much since the days of the greatest tensions of the civil rights movement, but we as human beings must always be vigilant to those places where we hold each other down, respond to evil with evil, and stay silent when we should speak.

Dr. King talked about the power of non-violence resting in the fact that it does not offer a response in-kind to those who choose violence and intimidation. A non-violent response to violence changes the terms of the relationship. It disarms ― maybe not at first, but in the end, the love, power, and spirit of non-violence conquers all.

When it comes to the future of the PC(USA), I think we need to claim and live out words of non-violence. Too many times, I have seen words lofted between people with the sole purpose to cause pain, marginalize, bully, and shackle the other into some rigid characterization not of their making. We use words to hurt or conquer. We use words to flex our muscle, hold onto our power, and, too often, destroy the other.

What if we were to use words of non-violence that do not respond to evil with evil or exacerbate conflict? What if we were to use words ― challenging, prophetic, and loving ― that are meant to change the ways in which we move through difficult times?

What if we were to use words that confuse the status quo of intentional, destructive interactions and, instead, allowed ourselves to be all that God intends ― a community of people working to be a model of peace and reconciliation in a world that yearns so desperately to see one?

What if? What have we got to lose?

This will be my prayer and my commitment this Lenten season. I hope you will join me.

Please continue to be part of the many conversations online.